


Snapshot

by bouenkyou



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Armin is a cinnamon roll, Jean is an idiot, M/M, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bouenkyou/pseuds/bouenkyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean is a photography major who finds a muse in a fascinating stranger—a history major named Armin.</p><p>-<br/>Written for the Jeamin Reverse Bang, Art by Vivi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshot

**Author's Note:**

> For this challenge, I had the pleasure to work with Vivi, who provided the art for this piece. I was instantly very inspired by her initial submission (the third picture included in the fic) and my inspiration grew so much it transformed into this sort of monster I had no longer control of. I'm still quite happy with how it turned now, I hope other fans like it, too!
> 
> Big thanks to Isy for beta-ing and of course to Vivi for being such a great partner who provided advice, virtual hand-holding and her lovely art to make this fic a better finished product.

 

snap·shot - **n.** a photograph, a glimpse of something; a portrayal of something at a moment in time.

## i

Jean rushed into the dorm building and quickly ran up the stairs towards his room on the second floor. He surged into his bedroom breathing hard—he was risking being late for class, but he had to print his photos for the assignment Right Now. Everyone knew being late was way better than showing up to photography composition class without homework.

He carefully threaded towards the desk, trying not to knock the piles of books and other objects placed everywhere in his already messy room. He really had to clean sometime. While his laptop booted, he pulled out the memory card from the digital camera he always carried around and inserted it into the SD slot in his laptop. He seriously hoped his printer had enough ink for these ones.

He opened the memory card and checked the image folder, browsing the pictures he had taken a few minutes ago. He decided to print the last picture he had snapped—it was much better than a lot of things he had turned in before. He stopped for a moment and silently thanked his luck for being in the right moment at the right time.

Staring at the composition of the picture transported him to the moment where it had been taken.

The assignment was supposed to be showing forced perspective, so he had decided to shoot a flower on the first plane, trying to make it appear the same size of another, bigger object.

At first he figured just comparing a sunflower to the building behind would be enough. It was probably a half-assed attempt, but it was better than not turning anything in, so he had gone to find a sunflower bed at campus and had lain on the grass in front of one of the damn flowers, trying to find objects to compare it with.

After about 20 minutes of failed attempts at having a shot with one of the campus buildings in the second plane, he had rotated his position on the ground and noticed a blond girl was standing in perfect second plane regarding the flower. Only her back, shoulders and a part of her face, obscured by golden strands, were visible, but it had still made great impact on Jean’s mind.

Her green t-shirt was a slightly darker color than the sunflower’s stem, and the color of her hair was ashier than the flower petals, but Jean had this ridiculous thought that she almost looked like a humanized version of a sunflower. From where Jean was lying, a sunflower had come to life in the form of a smiling girl that rested peacefully under the sunrays.

There it was—his perfect shot!

He had aimed his lens and snapped the picture.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him out of his thoughts about the blond girl and back to reality.

 

_[From: Marco_

_Where r u, dud? class ‘bout to start.]_

 

Anxiety filled his chest; he had spent the last five minutes lost in thought looking at the picture he had taken. He clicked on the print icon on his laptop and started picking up his things, mentally preparing himself for the sprint of his life. He turned to the printer when he was ready, but nothing had come out—his heart leaped at his throat.

Five minutes after, he was running towards the Arts building, clear folder with 3 copies of the picture in hand. He still felt like an imbecile for not having checked if the printer was properly turned on after clicking on the print option for the image like seven times. He was also grateful that he managed to cancel out the process after just three copies had been printed—he really couldn’t have afforded to waste more photography paper and ink.

He came to a halt in front of the classroom, wheezing and coughing. His throat and lungs burned from the exertion and his heart was thumping so loudly, he was sure the whole building could hear it. The classroom door slid open and the professor, a small and thin man with sharp eyes and an equally sharp frown, stared at him from the doorway.

“Kirstein, how kind of you to join us,” he drawled as he stepped back, motioning Jean to go inside the classroom. “Albeit late, I must point out.”

“Sorry about that,” he said, smiling nervously.

“Dude, you took so long,” Marco whispered when Jean sat down next to him.

“I was print—”

“Bott and Kirstein, I’m trying to teach here.” The professor cleared his throat and gave them one last warning look before continuing the class.

## ii

“Phew, Professor Levi is always so strict,” Jean sighed as he made his way down the long corridor towards the campus library. “To think he would give me extra homework for being late, geez.”

“If it serves as any consolation, I got extra for talking in class, so let’s help each other, yeah?” Marco snorted lightly and patted Jean’s shoulder.

“Ha ha, that’s my buddy.” Jean grinned and patted Marco’s shoulder, too.

They started talking about plans for the weekends, pulling out their student IDs when they walked into the library. Jean looked up when the information counter came to view and his eyes widened like saucers.

Behind the counter was the blond girl with the green t-shirt. Once again she had her back to Jean, and now he could admire her profile more closely.

He stopped dead in his tracks, stunted.

She had bright and expressive eyes framed by long bangs. Pearly-white teeth adorned her lips. A small nose peppered with lovely sunspots here and there completed the beautiful composition that her face was, and Jean vaguely wondered if she had sunspots on her slender shoulders, too. Her whole frame was small, slender and delicate, but she also gave an energetic vibe; definitely like a sunflower.

His fingers twitched—he really wanted to pull out his camera and take more pictures of her.

She seemed to be talking with another girl; a tall and beautiful brunette that gave him a dirty look when she realized he was looking at blondie.

Marco, who had been laughing and saying something, stopped mid-sentence and pulled him towards one of the aisles, frowning.

“Jean, are you alright?”

“Dude, that’s the girl,” he whispered furiously, discreetly motioning towards the library counter, “the girl in my picture.”

“Who, Mikasa?”

Marco gave Jean a confused look and Jean let out an irritated huff before pulling out the clear folder with the two remaining photos of the sunflower and blondie.

Marco looked at the image and frowned deeper, looking even more confused.

“Is this Armin?” he asked, looking between the photo and the library counter. 

“Who?” Now it was Jean’s turn to be confused. They stared at each other for a long, silent moment before Marco laughed, looking absolutely smug.

“Dude, this isn’t a girl. Armin’s a guy.”

The statement fell on Jean like a bag full of bricks.

“What—a guy?” he asked, disbelief evident in his tone.

At that moment, someone touched his shoulder and the girl—no, the guy—was standing behind him, smiling politely.

“Um, hello—hi, Marco! Is there anything I can do for you both?” His voice pretty much gave him away and Jean groaned and face-palmed at the same time Marco started sniggering uncontrollably.

Armin tensed up, standing awkwardly between them.

“You—well, you’re being too noisy and distracting people, so if you don’t really need anything…”

Marco sobered immediately and shook Jean by the shoulder, giving him a panicked look.

“I’m s-sorry. Yeah, we need some books, I’ll grab them quickly and we’ll sit down. Sorry for disturbing.” Jean bowed and quickly dragged Marco towards the Art & Design aisles. While he walked away, he turned around to see if the guy was still suspicious of them, but Armin’s face was split in such a benevolent smile—Jean felt a pang in his chest; he still wanted to pull out his camera and capture that face for himself.

Something definitely must have been wrong with him.

## iii

Two days later, Jean figured he had lost his mind.

Here he was, standing on one side of the library building, in between the bushes, looking through one of the windows.

He had a perfect view of Armin from here, or as perfect as the curtains of blond hair concealing his features allowed. Jean pulled out his camera and looked at Armin through the lens, admiring the way his teeth glinted and how his eyes crinkled at the edges every time anyone walked in.

“What are you doing?”

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him. He yelped and turned around quickly, hiding his camera behind his back. Marco stared at him, concern written all over his face.

“N-nothing. I’m not doing anything,” he said, as if hiding in the bushes to stare at unaware boys from afar was a normal occurrence. His shifty eyes betrayed him in the end, spilling his guilt all over the place.

He tried to cover it with a laugh, but he sounded odd and on edge even to his own ears. Marco only gave him a pitying look. Jean sighed, accepting defeat, and picked up his backpack, putting his camera away.

“I just—I swear I don’t have any ill intentions,” he mumbled as he stepped away from the bushes. Marco sighed, his pity melting into sympathy.

“I know,” he said, as he plucked dead leaves out of Jean’s hair.

Jean, however, came back to the same spot four hours later, even though it was dark and kind of cold out already. He peeked inside the library through the same window and spotted Armin again, still sitting behind the counter as he sorted through forms and books.

Camera in hand, Jean aimed at Armin’s seated form, zooming in as deep as he could and adjusting the focus before pressing the shutter. He looked at the picture in the preview screen on his digital camera and clicked his tongue before pulling out a second, more powerful lens. He just really wanted to see what color Armin’s eyes were.

When he gazed into the library again, Armin was turning off the computer and arranging his things to leave. The black-haired girl that had given him dirty looks before was waiting for Armin by the door and soon after, they went through the door together. Jean stared at them until they were out of sight. A few minutes later, he put his camera away.

After that incident, he made it a habit to check through the library windows every few day. Sometimes he wouldn’t find Armin; on those days he just pulled out his clear folder and looked at the sunflower picture, wondering where he could be. Other times he would see Armin just as he was leaving the building, so Jean would silently dawdle behind, discovering little parts of Armin he didn’t know before.

He found out Armin was a history major soon after he started to observe him more carefully. Doing some asking here and there, he also found out, loosely, what kind of schedule Armin had. Apparently, he had classes most mornings and some afternoons, and then spent the rest of his free time working as an intern on the library.

More and more pictures of Armin plagued the camera’s memory. It got to a point where Jean would always carry around several lenses for his camera, as there was the possibility of finding Armin in his way. However, when he got home, he would often feel sick with himself and delete the pictures, keeping only the first one he took.

Jean knew he was acting odd and suspicious; he actually wanted to approach Armin about it, but at the same time he felt it was a bit late and the more time passed, the more reluctant he was of telling Armin about it directly.

What made it worse even was the fact that he actually thought Armin and him could get along and be great friends; he realized it when Armin went to have dinner at Jean’s favorite burger joint, and how they seemed to like the same type of coffee—caramel macchiato, which was perhaps a bit girly, but he knew at least that Armin wouldn’t tease him about it.

Another reason why it was tough to talk to him was that Armin was somehow never alone. Jean had seen him mostly with the brunette beauty, but often he was accompanied by a brown-haired, lame-looking guy. Sometimes all three of them hung out, and Armin seemed at ease with them, which made Jean wonder what it would be like to have such a close relationship like that.

It was the way they wrapped their arms so easily around Armin shoulders, and how they huddled together even if they had occupied the biggest table at the burger joint. That scene left such a strong impression on Jean; he figured they were protective by the way the brunette, Mikasa, always seemed to fuss around Armin and how the brown-haired guy always looked out for him. Jean didn’t think they were related, but it was obvious they were incredibly close, like siblings—or something else equal to family.

The one that seemed to accompany Armin the most lately was a bulky blond dude, though, and Armin was so often with him and always seemed to be having such a great time, with the way his whole face lit up while they spoke, that Jean couldn’t suppress the pang of jealousy that assaulted him whenever he saw them together. Their relationship didn’t seem as close as what he had with the other two, but it was definitely closer than what Jean was to Armin now—just some nameless guy he talked to about once.

Worse of all was that he had taken pictures of all of them, so he couldn’t help but reason that maybe, just maybe, he was acting like some deranged psycho and perhaps this wasn’t the way to approach the object of his inspiration.

## iv

His neck prickled. Armin could tell someone was looking at him, but everyone at the library was quietly concentrating on their books or homework. He discreetly glanced around the room, just in case, but no one was looking towards the information counter.

The book lay forgotten on the counter in front of his forearms since he couldn’t concentrate on it anymore. The feeling on being watched made his stomach churn uncomfortably. He pulled out his cellphone, quickly typing a text.

 

_[To: Eren_

_Hi, do you think you could walk home with me today? Crime rates are on the rise, you know.]_

 

Mikasa often walked with him, but today she had other things to do. Perhaps he was being too conscious and silly, but if someone was really following him, and they were dangerous, he wouldn’t know what to do. He wasn’t one to be too paranoid, but in this case it was better to be safe than sorry, Mikasa and Eren made him feel safe—and if they asked for reasons, well, crime rate was rising after all.

*

Eren couldn’t walk with him in the end, but he wasn’t one to abandon his friends either. Armin walked out of the building and Reiner was waiting by the end of the stairs. He flashed a toothy grin when he saw Armin, and Armin breathed out a relieved sigh.

“Eren said you wanted some company,” Reiner said when Armin reached him. They strode together at a leisurely pace towards the campus entrance.

“Yes, thanks for coming. Eren said he was sending someone, but didn’t say who. I’m glad it was you.” Armin gave Reiner a relieved smile. Reiner appeared surprised for an instant, and then he laughed loudly.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you’re flirting… but something must be going on for you to be so keen on going home with someone—anyone, in fact”

“Geez, Reiner, you’re not anyone!” Armin exclaimed, lightly punching his arm. Reiner comically pretended to be hurt when Armin’s small fist connected with his muscles.

“I just—I think someone is following me…” Armin whispered and Reiner stopped walking and stared at him.

“Following you... like stalking?”

“I’m not sure, but I really hope not,” he admitted, his voice wavering a bit.

“If it is, Eren and I will teach him a lesson, you’ll see,” Reiner said as he hooked an arm protectively around Armin shoulders.

“Oh, scary!” Armin said, laughing lightly. “Thanks.”

They kept walking in companionable conversation until they reached Armin’s home.

“If you need anything, text me, alright,” Reiner said when he waved his goodbye.

The double-lock door made him feel almost as safe as his friends. He was grateful that his friends were so protective, or else he wouldn’t know what to do.

When he walked out of his house the next day, he didn’t think anyone was following him, but when he reached the campus, the feeling hovered over him, making him realize he had to ask his friends for help again.

He felt helpless and silly—he was so weak he couldn’t fend for himself. He knew Mikasa, Eren or Reiner cared for him enough to help him in time of need, but having to accompany him everywhere in case his life was in danger was such a bother, even Armin knew that much.

He still pulled out his cellphone and typed a text to all three of them, hoping their company would make his anxiety go away.

## v

Jean kneeled next to the library door, looking inside. Marco simply tried to appear impassive, even if his friend’s behavior actually bothered him.

“Jean, c’mon we have to finish the assignment,” Marco almost buzzed with restrained anxiety; he really didn’t want to wait until last minute like Jean often did.

“I’m just checking if he’s here, I’d like to ask him to pose for my picture,”

Marco did a double take at the words.

“What?! Did you finally lose your mind or something?” he whispered furiously.

Everyone that walked into the library looked at them like they were loons and Marco felt self-conscious. He really cared for Jean, but this was hurting his reputation as a regular guy that usually didn’t catch anyone else’s unwanted attention.  

Jean stood up next to Marco and sighed.

“He’s not here… well, today he should be at the history department, he has class there, I just remembered,” Jean turned around; perhaps ready to go to that department to talk to Armin.

The statement seemed harmless, if Jean and Armin were friends, that is. Instead, it set alarms on Marco’s mind.

“How—why do you know this?” he asked, tone accusatory.

Jean seemed to realize he had made a mistake, if the way his eyes widened in surprise was any indication.

“No, I mean, I’m not sure, but—” Jean was so obviously flustered that Marco even felt bad for putting him on the spot, but this was a problem; a huge one, in fact.

“Oh my god,” he moaned, distressed, “do you realize how crazy you sound? You’re acting like a stalker!”

It was like a bolt of lightning had hit Jean on the spot. He stood rigidly, eyes wide with shock and mouth slack. Marco confirmed what he had feared—Jean hadn’t even noticed he was acting like some psycho.

Jean recovered somewhat quickly, but he adopted a defensive demeanor almost instantly.

“I’m not stalking him, ok? I just find him… inspiring,” he said, with a flutter or his hand.

Marco sighed. This conversation was giving him a headache.

“Alright, just... you didn’t follow him home or anything, right?”

Jean startled at the words and his behavior shifted to something akin to a kicked puppy. His shoulders fell and he ducked his head, averting his eyes—somehow, guilt poured out of every millimeter of his body.

“It was only once ok, and not the whole way…” he mumbled.

“OH MY GOD!” Marco exclaimed, facepalming.

He was going to have a seriously talk with Jean right now about the importance of respecting people’s space; even if those people were charming enough to blind him.

After the talk, Jean had survived the ordeal even if Marco had been a bit tough with him at times. Marco was pleased that he had somehow convinced Jean that it was best to try and befriend Armin and ask him directly if he was ok with having his picture taken instead of creepily following him around like some eventual serial killer.

“Thanks, I’ll do that,” Jean had told him as they were exiting the building. “And I’m sorry… thanks for slapping me awake!”

Jean broke to a light sprint when they were out of the building. Marco smiled and raised his hand in a salutatory motion when Jean turned to give him a thumbs-up.

He really hoped Jean had learned the lesson or else the slapping was going to become more literal. He wasn’t going to allow his friend become a criminal.

## vi

Jean hovered outside a classroom, knowing Armin was in the other side of the door. He looked at his clock; it was almost time for them to get out. The hallways wasn’t deserted, but only few people stood in small groups outside different doors, waiting for the wave of students to pour out of the classrooms.

Jean discreetly looked at those waiting, but didn’t recognize any of them. No one was waiting for Armin; perhaps this was his chance to ask him about posing for his pictures, like Marco had told him, instead of sneaking around to photograph him without permission. Marco had told him to try and get close to Armin. Apparently Armin was the kind of guy who was friendly enough to talk to pretty much anyone, but Jean thought it maybe was something that came with his intern job.

He heard shuffling behind the door and he steeled himself, unconsciously reaching for his backpack shoulder straps and standing straighter. Armin walked out looking at his cellphone and Jean felt a little dismayed—he had just planned to call Armin’s attention visually, but this represented a problem. He quickly blocked Armin’s path, making him look up with a very surprised expression.

Armin’s face was so close; Jean could count the sunspots on the tip of his nose and see the way the intense and muted tones of blue in his eyes intertwined to create a powerful, electric blue as clear as the early morning sky. Their eyes met for a few seconds before Armin stepped back, leaving more space between them.

“Um, hello,” Jean said, but immediately felt silly. Armin gave him a confused look, but he stood there, listening.

“I-My name is Jean, I’m a photography student, and well…” Jean wished he had considered more carefully what to say, as he wasn’t sure how to get to the point and stalling only meant robbing Armin of his precious time.

“Ah!” Armin suddenly said, pointing at him. “You’re Marco’s friend, I saw you the other time on the library!”

The statement gave Jean such happiness, his heart almost jumped out of his chest. He could feel his cheeks and the tip of his ears heating up, but he hoped his flush wasn’t evident or anything. The new emotion had sent his initial anxiety out the window and what he wanted to say appeared clearly in his mind, making it easier for him to speak.

“Yes, we’re friends! Marco and I have the same major, and well as photographer we’re often asked to shoot people—”

Armin was listening to Jean carefully, but eyes widened comically at the last part of the statement and Jean hastened to correct it.

“I mean, shoot pictures of them! Not like, kill them or anything.” His voice had reached a somewhat desperate edge with the explanation and Armin laughed with evident relief.

“I see! And so, how could I help you?” Armin locked his questioning blue eyes with Jean’s, making him hesitate. Jean had to look away to get the words out.

“Well, I was wondering if you could be my model,” he murmured softly, but from the way Armin’s shoulders tensed, he had heard him.

“Erm, sorry!” Armin started, voiced strained. “I really don’t think I’m the right person for that.”

His whole body language changed instantly. He seemed more subdued and a little uneasy, but not with Jean, but with the idea of being photographed. Suddenly, a wave of guilt crashed on Jean, and he seriously considered for once getting rid of all the pictures he had taken and moving on with his life, but Jean was so sure Armin had great potential. He decided that after getting to know Armin better, he would ask again.

“I really think you would be great, but if you don’t want to, that’s alright. Just—if you change your mind, let me know,” he said, giving Armin his most friendly smile.

Armin seemed calmer after this, and he nodded and smiled before waving Jean goodbye and giving him a ‘see you around’, which for Jean meant a ray of hope compared to the completely darkness that had been not talking to him at all.

Jean didn’t immediately turn into Armin’s best friend, but he strategized a way to at least talk to him often enough to be remembered. He could casually bump into Armin on the hallways or at the cafeteria and Armin would greet him cheerfully, but then go back to his group of friends. Jean thought the best place to interact in a more lengthy way was at the library, so he appeared there one rainy afternoon when he knew Mikasa didn’t have a shift.

Armin waved at him as soon as he saw him. He practically beamed at Jean and made a comment about how great it was to see him, and Jean figured perhaps this was why Armin was liked so much—because when he had asked around about Armin, everyone had only said great things.

“What can I do for you?” Armin said in his most professional voice. Jean grinned at him and waved his hand in a dismissive motion.

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m just here to fend off the rain,” he said, puffing out his chest in an exaggerated way.

Armin looked mock-offended, but immediately laughed.

“Yeah, we don’t really get much to do on rainy days; most people that come only do it because there’s a ceiling.” He relaxed against the counter and Jean mirrored him, continuing the conversation.

“I’m sure everyone just wants to give the books a break, too,” he said sympathetically. Armin spurted into a fit of controlled giggles, perhaps as not to bother those in the nearby tables. Jean felt like he had won the lottery, just because he made a guy laugh with a lame joke.

“Oh geez, as if,” Armin finally said when he managed to calm down.

Jean talked to him for another hour, and Armin kept smiling the whole time. This was new, he thought—even when Armin was with his other friends, he didn’t smile like this and Armin didn’t look like the kind of guy that would fake a smile for hours just to be polite, either. They talked about their majors, about the books and authors they liked, and when the rain was only becoming a drizzle signaling Jean’s time was up soon, he mentioned that he often went to a nearby burger joint to get dinner.

“I love it there, too!” Armin said. “Everything I’ve eaten there is heavenly.”

“Yes, I know right?!” Adrenaline pumped in Jean’s veins, making him braver. “We should go eat dinner together there, my treat?”

Armin’s smile wavered momentarily, but he recovered quickly.

“Yes, we should. I already have plans today, though, but some other time would be great!”

Jean’s enthusiasm died in the wake of Armin’s words, but he faked magnificently.

“Awesome, just remember the offer is standing,” he said before waving goodbye and walking out of the library.

## vii

Armin had actually remembered Jean’s offer and took it the following week, but Mikasa and the brown-haired guy, Eren, were also sitting on each side of Armin in front of Jean. At least Mikasa wasn’t giving him hateful looks anymore, but he could swear Eren’s three last kicks on his shins hadn’t been as accidental as the first one. He was fed up with Eren’s attitude, but Armin was practically beaming at him, so Jean could take another kick or two, probably, before he started kicking back.

When they were leaving, Armin hugged him. His hair smelled so good Jean had trouble letting go.

“I had such a great time, we should do this again,” he cheerfully said, and Jean just nodded, not believing his luck.

Even Mikasa smiled at him and Eren was chill enough to shake hands with him before they walked away behind Armin. Somehow Jean felt like this was their way to express their approval of Jean as Armin’s new friend.

Jean walked home with a face-splitting grin in his lips and a fluttery stomach. The idea of hanging out with Armin more often sent his mind flying and he imagined all the different plans he could come up with to make Armin smile, or laugh or beam at him. When he reached the dorm, he didn’t go directly to his room, going to Marco’s instead. He lightly knocked on the door, hoping it wasn’t too late to drop by.

“Dude, do you know what time is it?” Marco whispered as he opened the door. Jean looked at his watch, surprised that it was about an hour past midnight. Either the company had made him lose track of time, or the walk home had been longer thanks to all his dumb daydreaming.

“Whoops, sorry! I can come back tomorrow,” he whispered back.

“Nah, it’s alright. I wasn’t sleeping anyway,” Marco stepped aside, letting Jean in.

The lights were off, but the laptop on Marco’s desk illuminated the room enough for Jean to find his way to Marco’s bed. He practically dove in it, hugging the pillow and sighing before rolling around in the bed. Marco sniggered as he went back to his chair in front of the desk.

“I hope you’re not planning to crash here. I’m planning to sleep at some point,” he said, reclining back and reaching the bed with his leg to kick Jean in the butt.

“I know, I’ll go home in a bit, just…” he sighed again, a long and yearning sound that ripped laughter from Marco.

“You sound lovestruck,” he said, still laughing lightly, “What is this about?”

Jean rolled his eyes and gave him a look.

“It’s not like that, geez,” he said, dismissively, “I just took your advice and somehow today I went to the burger joint with Armin and his friends, and he said he had fun.”

Marco raised his eyebrows, whistling.

“Are you sure it’s not like that? It looks very much like _that_ to me.”

Heat rose to Jean’s cheek, but he hid his face on Marco’s pillow. “Shut your trap,” he murmured, and Marco laughed again.

“I do think he’s pretty, and interesting, and I have fun talking to him.” Another long, yearning sound made it past his lips.

“But it’s definitely not like that, right?” Marco said, mockingly. Jean stood from the bed and grabbed Marco by the shoulders.

“STOP, stop this, I don’t like him, ok!” he shouted, shaking Marco like a rattle. Marco just chuckled and nodded.

“I’m just glad you took my advice, and that you’re happier now,” he said, smiling.

Jean rolled his eyes again, but he was smiling, too.

*

Armin approached him next day, and to Jean’s surprise he was alone.

“Want to have lunch together?” He took Jean to a secluded area behind the History building, where there was a nice grassy field where they could sit down. There was an old, big tree that offered a great shade where they could sit, and Armin sat against the tree trunk, pulling out his food from backpack.

Jean pulled out a couple of sandwiches he had prepared in the morning and offered Armin one in exchange to some of his food. Armin seemed more than happy to trade, but he seemed self-conscious when Jean tried the food.

“H-how is it?” he asked quietly, and then he added, “I’m just starting to learn how to cook, so I can’t promise it’s great.”

“It’s tasty, thanks!” he said, cheerfully. Armin let out a relieved sigh at this and proceeded to bite on the sandwich.

“This is good, too,” he said, smiling. Jean snorted a laugh.

“It’s not homemade or anything fancy, but thanks,” he bit into his sandwich, too, and thought perhaps it tasted better than usual. But it was most likely his imagination.

After eating, they just rested against the tree trunk and just chatted for a while. Armin was explaining to Jean how the world has been populated and Jean marveled at the fact that the topic, usually considered boring, was really interesting just by the way Armin retold it. He articulated excitedly with his delicate hands and his eyes shone beautifully, making Jean get really into it.

Afterwards, Armin asked Jean about photography. While Jean explained why he was passionate about it, his cheeks heated up. Whenever he spoke about his dream of being a photojournalist he couldn’t help feeling self-conscious—he hadn’t spoke openly about it to anyone, not even Marco, and he didn’t think it was unattainable or lame, but it was perhaps a too idealistic cause; something people wouldn’t associate with him. Armin nodded at every utterance Jean spoke, smiling the whole time.

“I think you have a wonderful dream,” he said, tucking golden strands of hair behind his ears. Jean wanted to stretch his hand and touch Armin’s hand or his cheek or his hair—any part of him to make sure he was as soft and gentle to the touch as he looked—yet, he refrained.

The light had changed positions, indicating the sun has moved with the passing of time. Now the sun hit them directly and Armin indulged on the warmth, closing his eyes and craning his neck to receive the sunrays in his face. Jean was instantly reminded of the first time he saw him behind the sunflower.

“So this is how you got sunspots, I always wondered,” he murmured, ducking his head in embarrassment after realizing what he had said.

“You’re awfully observant,” Armin replied, laughing lightly.

“Well, you have to admit it’s tough for nerds—I mean, library residents to get sunburn,” he joked and Armin rolled his eyes at him, laughing dryly.

“ _Library residents—_ please,” he echoed, knocking Jean’s foot with his. “Just for your information, most nerds go out plenty.”

“Really? Without scientific evidence, I’m not very convinced,” Jean said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Armin burst into bubbly laughter.

“I think I’ll need some empirical data, you’ll have to invite me next time.” The statement left his mouth before he could think it through and he almost regretted it—almost.

“Oh, you bet I will,” Armin said, giving him a teasing smile that sent shivers down Jean’s spine.

“Good, I’ll look forward to it,” Jean pleasantly admitted. Armin smiled shyly and nodded, tucking stray strands behind his ear again.

The tip of his ear looked a little red and his cheeks were adorned by a pink dusting. Jean’s heart thumped harder in his chest at the sight, but the logical part of his brain attributed it to the sun—there was no way Armin was flirting with him; and he didn’t even feel anything besides admiration for Armin anyway. If his heart rate picked up around him and butterflies danced in his stomach, it was just that—admiration, there wasn’t any deeper meaning.

## viii

Later that week, Jean visited the library to grab some reference material for a class. Armin joked with him about library residents not expecting visitors while he checked out the books and Jean rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh. Since there was no one else on the waiting line, Jean stayed back for a little chat and Armin apparently had the same plan because he leaned against the counter to give him a conspiratorial grin.

“Remember the empirical data you needed? I have Saturday off,” he said, meaningfully. Jean felt his heart leap and he glanced around, hoping no one was listening to their conversation.

“What a coincidence, I was thinking of going to a place nerds love this Saturday,” he commented, clapping his hands together.

“Sheesh, shut up,” Armin said, reaching out and messing Jean’s hair as revenge.

“Ok, joke aside I’m planning on going to the botanical garden, I have to take pictures of flowers for my next assignment.” He rearranged his hair, but deep down he wished Armin would reach out again—this time around he would grab his hand just to measure it against his own.

“What a coincidence, I love flowers,” Armin exclaimed and then laughed, rubbing his hands against his reddening cheeks. Jean could have sworn he looked… self-conscious or embarrassed. He laughed, too, just in case. He didn’t want Armin to feel bad because he thought that joke was lame.

“Would you like to come, then?” Jean asked, as an afterthought. Armin nodded quickly, and then they both realized someone was standing behind Jean.

“Alright, see you then!” Jean waved Armin goodbye, and when he was about to walk away from the counter, he heard something.

“It’s a date!” Armin whispered, and then laughed, shaking his head.

Jean felt his face and ears heat up, but he laughed, too. As he walked out of the library, his logical side intervened again, convincing him it had probably been a joke. They had both laughed it off—no way was it for real.

They met at the garden a little after two in the afternoon and made their way through the different areas. Armin scribbled notes on a notebook about the plants he didn’t know about and when Jean coughed ‘nerd’ under his breath, Armin pouted and pretended to be hurt before smacking Jean with his notebook in retaliation. When they were at peace again, Armin explained the history of some of the flowers to Jean and in turn, Jean explained how some rare breeds were made.

“You know an awful lot about flowers,” Armin said, voice filled with wonder. “You almost sound like a nerd!”

“Ugh,” Jean put a hand to his chest, as if he had been deeply insulted. Armin cackled and dashed away from him in case he wanted to seek bloody revenge.

Jean laughed under his breath; this part of Armin was quite fun. He was clever and he always managed to get Jean when he was least expecting it. He stared at Armin from where he was standing; Armin was looking at a rare breed of roses with shiny and curious eyes. He scribbled something and then he stared at his notes pensively, the corners of his mouth twisting comically. Jean smiled softly, realizing no other human being he had ever seen had been this endearing.

He turned to his left, looking at a black tulip. He pulled out his camera from his backpack, remembering he was supposed to be taking pictures, and aimed at the tulip, pressing the shutter when he was satisfied with the shot. He turned to look for Armin, hoping his lack of revenge had been enough of a peace offer.

He found Armin a few steps away, crouching and staring at some tiny purple orchids. He inspected them carefully, looking at them at any possible angle and writing notes. Jean lifted his camera without thinking, focusing his shot on Armin. Right at that moment, Armin turned to him, perhaps to tell him something, but the words died in his mouth and he seemed startled.

Jean, almost panicking, tried to hide his camera, but Armin had clearly seen him holding it and aiming at him. He walked straight towards Jean surprisingly quickly and in such a way, it didn’t leave Jean any escape routes.

“I think I told you that I didn’t want to be photographed,” Armin said seriously. He didn’t look or sound angry, just a little uncomfortable.

“Ah—yes, sorry, Armin,” Jean pulled his backpack open, in an attempt to put his camera away, but he knocked the clear folder with Armin’s picture in it and it fell on the floor in front of Armin. Jean mentally kicked himself; he had forgotten to pull it out of his backpack before leaving.

It fell facedown, and Jean almost let out a relieved sigh, but as he had his hands occupied with the camera, he wasn’t quick enough to snatch it away and Armin was the first to pick it up, turning it around and looking at the picture with curious eyes.

Realization almost instantly settled on Armin’s face, but initially he seemed mostly surprised. His cheeks blushed and he covered them with his left hand, the clear folder now trembling on his right one.

“Is this… me?” he asked, but his tone expressed mostly wonder, like he couldn’t believe he could look like the person in the picture.

“Armin, listen… it’s not—,” Jean started, not really knowing what to say.

“Just tell me, yes or no?”

Armin’s voice had gotten really strained all of sudden. He pulled the folder open and inspected the picture more closely, as if it could respond in Jean’s behalf.

“Yes,” Jean eventually said after a frustrated sigh. “But I swear it’s not what you think… my intentions weren’t bad, please believe me!”

Armin stood there for a minute, just thinking.

“Did you take others?” he asked, his tone of voice getting chillier with each word.

“Armin—”

“Did you?!” he shouted, and Jean felt like he had been hit by a bolt of lightning. He sighed, knowing he didn’t have it in his heart to tell Armin a lie.

“Yes,” he murmured, his voice trembling minutely. Armin’s face contorted in anger, his face flushed hotly and he showed Jean a cruel sneer—an expression Jean thought Armin could never make. But at the same time, to Jean’s surprise, tears rolled out of the corners of Armin’s eyes.

“So, when I felt someone staring or that someone was following me, it was you?” Armin asked, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

“I’m sorry, Armin, just—”

“Answer me!” Armin demanded, unable to control his tone.

“Yes! It was me, but I didn’t mean to scare you or anything, I was just inspired by you!”

Jean realized that his statement sounded like a lame excuse even to his own ears. He knew what he had done had been wrong, he knew disrespecting Armin’s wishes had been wrong, but at the face of losing Armin, he was scrambling for something—anything that would stop that from happening.

Armin quietly stood there, wiping the tears from his eyes. He didn’t look so angry anymore, just worn and ragged. He vaguely realized the picture was still in his hand and he crumbled it, letting it fall on the floor when it was a tight lump of paper. He practically threw the folder at Jean’s chest and turned away from him.

“I don’t want to see you for a while. Don’t come near me.” His words pierced Jean’s chest, leaving him cold. He just stood there and stared as Armin walked away from him.

Jean picked the crumbled picture and threw it away on the nearest waste bin. He tried to complete his assignment, but his heart wasn’t into it so the pictures weren’t any good. With a heavy heart, he walked home, taking an extra hour than usual to reach his door. He dove face-first into the bed, feeling defeated. His eyes stung, but he wasn’t going to cry about this. Hours later, he woke up in the middle of the night with a wet pillow and bloated eyes. He decided that he was going to miss school the next day.

## ix

The library building came to view and Jean tensed a little.

“I think I’ll skip the library today,” Jean said, smiling weakly. Marco gave him a sympathetic look.

“No problem, I’ll grab the books you need for you,” he said, waving goodbye.

Jean walked back towards the Arts building knowing it was better to try and find some company from classmates than go back to the dorm to wallow in his misery. The sunflower bed near the building entered his field of vision and he felt like he was blinded. His eyes stung again and he just looked away, breathing deeply to calm down. When he entered the building, Sasha and Connie, two of his friends, were chatting by the entrance, apparently sharing ideas about tattoo design.

“Woah, dude, you look awful,” Connie expressed as a matter of greeting and Jean laughed dryly, his shoulders sagging at the spot-on comment. Sasha rolled his eyes and elbowed Connie.

“Stop that, Connie! You know Jean is sensitive about his appearance,” she whispered and Jean groaned.

“Sasha, if you were trying to help, I appreciate it, but that’s enough,” he said pitifully. Both Sasha and Connie laughed and the sound was so contagious Jean joined them after, feeling suddenly energized by their cheerfulness.

Hours passed and before lunchtime, Jean felt generally better. It had been just a couple of days and a lot of things reminded him of the unpleasant incident he had caused for himself. Even looking at his camera had become painful, and he was mentally berating himself for that as he had assignments to complete, but deep down he knew he just needed a bit more time.

Marco walked to him with a pack of books on his arms while Jean was eating lunch.  Jean smiled at him weakly, eyes questioning. Marco sighed deeply, knowing what this was about.

“He wasn’t there,” he commented quietly and Jean nodded, feeling strangely heavy. His mood was plummeting again.

After the books were separated and given, Marco started on his lunch as well. They made light chat and Jean told him about his encounter with Connie and Sasha. The conversation distracted Jean greatly and he felt his mood improving. Friends were great. He hadn’t spoken to Marco about the situation in detail and Marco had respected that, but he was still doing his best effort to help Jean in any way possible and that was something Jean was incredibly grateful for.

He managed to survive the rest of the afternoon, which was a great improvement. The previous day he hadn’t even managed to stay at campus until lunch, and the two days before that he had skipped completely, so he was proud that he wasn’t losing against his self-pity. He hadn’t seen Armin in those days, which frankly relieved him a bit; the last thing he wanted was to upset him further, but his chest ached with longing. Longing he didn’t know existed before the boy had come into his life.

His mood plummeted again when he was walking out of campus and Eren, of all people, stopped him.

“Shit dude, you took so long, I’ve been waiting for like an hour,” he grumbled. “I was starting to think you had gone home already!”

“It’s not like I made plans to meet with _anyone_ ,” Jean snapped, frowning. Eren withered visibly and looked guilty as charged for a moment, but then he smiled innocently, perhaps hoping that might get him on Jean’s good side—not that he ever was.

“Whatever, do you need me for anything?” Jean asked, letting out an irritated sigh. Eren’s face lightened up and he nodded, but then his face became somber as he frowned. Jean just stared at him, trying to hide his distaste.

“Did something happen with you and Armin?” he asked. Jean visibly startled and winced, making Eren frown deeper.

“I knew it!” he growled as he grabbed Jean by the collar of his shirt. “He wouldn’t tell us what it was, but if you hurt him, I swear—“

Jean pushed Eren with all his force, managing to break free from his hold.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go near him again,” he explained hard not to sound as regretful as he fell. “He told me so, and I respect that.”

Eren’s frown morphed into shock.

“He…he said to leave him alone?” Eren’s surprised dripped from his words. “You must have seriously fucked it up. He really liked you, you know?”

“Yes, I fucked it up!” Jean shouted, his patience snapping in two. “I can’t fix it anymore, ok? He said to stay away from him and the last thing I should do is at least leave him alone like he asked me to.”

His vision got blurry and the corners of his eyes felt too hot and wet. Before he ducked his head and ran away, he got a glance at Eren’s face—he looked worried and sympathetic. Jean hated that, the least thing he needed was pity from the enemy.

## x

Two long weeks had passed and Jean had to admit he was a little grateful that he had somehow memorized Armin’s schedule. This way there was no chance of random meetings—he wanted to spare Armin the anger, and he most definitely wanted to spare his soul from the sorrow it would entail to see Armin go on with his life happily when he himself was drowning in despair. He didn’t want Armin to be unhappy, truthfully, but the thought that he had made no difference in Armin’s life definitely made him a little miserable.

The conversation he had had with Eren the previous week had lit a tenuous light of hope in salvaging the friendship, but his mind kept stomping on that idea. He was already in deep trouble as it was; surely trying to approach Armin would only make it worse, not to mention that the possibility of being ignored or rejected made him extremely anxious. He had brought this upon himself, and now it was time for him to face the consequences.

The light filtering through the curtains reminded him it was time to get out of bed and get ready for to class. After remembering he had some books due today in the library, he collected them and put them in his bag. His camera rested on top of the desk collecting dust; Jean hesitated in front of it, but decided not to grab it. When he reached campus, he decided to swing by the library first, the books were heavy and he didn’t want to carry them around all day.

He and Marco had carefully calculated the days and times where Jean could ask for and return books without running into Armin, and today was one of those days. He had seen Mikasa a couple of times, but she hadn’t commented on anything related to Armin, she just processed the books and struck light conversation with him about the weather or something equally mundane. This was fine with him; he didn’t want the whole situation between Mikasa and him to be more awkward than it already was.

He was too distracted going through his backpack when he entered the library that he didn’t notice Armin resting against the counter and talking to Mikasa until it was already too late—their eyes met and a heat wave hit Jean full force, making his whole face blush. It was too late to walk away now, so he just nodded at the both of them politely and then decidedly looked anywhere except at Amin as put the books on the counter. Mikasa grabbed them and started checking them in.

“Um, hi,” Armin said, quietly. “How is everything?”

Jean slowly turned his face until their eyes met again. Armin looked cheerful and polite as usual, but there was something a little different—his demeanor appeared less awkward than Jean had expected, he wondered if perhaps it had to do with Mikasa being there, because their fight was supposed to be a secret or something. It was relieving that their encounter hadn’t been more explosive, but Armin’s behavior was completely unexpected.

“Everything is good,” he said, clearing his throat. “Sorry about this, I just had some books to turn in.”

Armin made a dismissive gesture and shook his head.

“Yeah, I know how it is, don’t worry!” he exclaimed, and Jean let out the breath he didn’t even notice he had been holding. They stood quietly side by side for a few seconds.

“I hope everything is going well for you, too,” Jean said, and Amin giggled a little, covering his face with his hand.

“Um, yeah… sorry I laughed, you just sounded really formal all of sudden.” Armin looked at him shyly, and Jean didn’t know how to interpret that.

At that moment, Mikasa returned with Jean’s ids and he was about ready to go, but Armin stopped him.

“Jean, well, can we talk? I promise it will be just a minute.” Armin was fiddling with his fingers and not really looking at him. Jean instantly nodded, but then remembered Armin wasn’t looking at him.

“Sure, yeah, I have some time now,” he said, motioning towards the library exit.

Armin nodded and turned to Mikasa, saying his goodbyes. Jean waved at her, too, and then he walked towards the exit with Armin in tow. At some point Armin walked past him, directing him towards the patch of grass with the huge tree behind the History building. Neither of them sat down, they just stood there awkwardly for a short moment before they both spoke at the same time several times. Armin broke down in a fit of laughter and it was like a spell breaking.

“You first,” Jean said, motioning to him.

Armin nodded and took a deep breath before speaking.

“I wanted to speak to you, but considering the way I treated you, I wasn’t sure if it was ok,” he seemed a little embarrassed, so Jean interrupted him almost immediately.

“No, Armin, I think you had every right to treat me badly, I was very disrespectful towards you—” Before he could go on, Armin shook his head.

“Yes, it’s true, but I thought about it a lot, and I want to accept your apology,” he said seriously. “I still don’t want to be photographed, so if you can respect that we can go back to being friends.”

A shuddering breath left Jean’s lips.

“Yes, of course!” he said, suddenly hugging Armin. “I’m so glad.”

Armin tensed up, but didn’t push him away. He even rubbed his cheek against Jean’s chest, making Jean blush after he realized what he had done.

“So, this means I can talk to you again and ask you out?” Jean asked carefully, just to make sure.

Armin looked taken aback and then he blushed deeply, biting his lip.

“Ask me out? Did you want to ask me out?” His voice wavered, he sounded a little confused but also a big deal hopeful.

Jean hadn’t initially meant it like that, but given the opportunity, he decided to take it. He had realized he liked Armin more than in just a friendly way, but he never thought he would have had the chance to confess.

“Yeah… would you like that?” he whispered and Armin grinned at him, nodding. Jean felt like his heart was about to explode. In the heat of the moment he reached for Armin’s hand and kissed it.

“Oh geez,” Armin giggled and rolled his eyes, but his cheeks and ears were red. Jean took that as a good sign and he squeezed Armin’s hand. Armin pulled Jean’s hand to his lips, too, and copied his motion.

“Nerd,” Jean murmured as he pulled Armin into another tight hug and Armin let him.

*****

After they started going out, Armin made it a habit to visit Jean often. Most of the time, Armin just lay down on the bed and read a book or finished his homework while Jean fiddled with his laptop. Jean had picked up his camera again and he kept finding Armin as inspiring as ever, but he photographed other things with Armin in mind, projecting his inspiration perfectly. Professor Levi had even complimented him in his most recent works, telling him that his goal as a photojournalist perhaps wasn’t so out of his reach.

Armin surprised him one day, however, when he pulled out his cellphone and launched the camera app.

“Say cheese,” he said, squishing his face against a shocked Jean. Jean recovered quickly and remembered to smile as Armin snapped a picture.

“I look weird,” he grumbled when Armin showed him.

“No, you don’t!” he exclaimed, rolling his eyes. Jean’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he checked the message, finding the picture in his inbox.

“You cannot set it as your screen wallpaper!” Armin said with a firm tone and Jean laughed, doing so anyway.

“Don’t worry, only I look at my phone.”

He pulled Armin into a loose hold before kissing the tip of his nose.

“Nerd!” Armin yelled, before Jean pulled his giggling form under the covers to do unspeakable things to him as revenge.

**Fin**

**Author's Note:**

> Regarding Jean's stalking, I don't condone this behavior. Stalking is a serious issue and if anyone feels like they might be in a potentially dangerous situation because of it, it's best to reach out to the pertinent authorities. 
> 
> Comments are more than welcome! Let's talk Jearmin~


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